


rich girl

by Dresupi



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Darcy Lewis is Tony Stark's Daughter, Darcy Lewis is the fandom bicycle and I love it, F/M, Mechanic Bucky Barnes, Pre-Relationship, SHIP DARCY LEWIS WITH ALL THE THINGS, Socialite Darcy Lewis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-17 23:03:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16105628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dresupi/pseuds/Dresupi
Summary: She's too beautiful andcleanto be standing in the middle of his garage, but she's here anyway, asking Bucky to fix her car...





	rich girl

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Windlight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Windlight/gifts).



> 1970s Song Prompts
> 
> Rich Girl by Hall & Oates (1976) || for WIndlight

Bucky couldn’t stop looking at her.  She was too beautiful. Like she’d been sculpted out of marble and brought to life.

She looked worried, chewing on her bottom lip as she glanced around the garage.

“She’s all yours, Buck…” Steve said with a smirk.  "Just roll your tongue back into your mouth before you go talk to her…"

He rolled his eyes, but checked himself, wiping his greasy hands on a rag as he made his way closer to her. Not too close.  He didn’t want to be creepy, and he was fairly certain that those white pumps she was was sporting would literally hoover the grease from whatever surface they touched.  "Can I help you, ma'am?“

She smirked slightly.  "No need for ma'am, I’m probably younger than you.”

He chuckled.  "Force of habit, my apologies. Can I help you…" he trailed off, unsure if he should address her at all and deciding too late not to.

She assumed he was waiting for a name and gave it.  "Darcy. Stark.“

His eyebrows shot up.  It was a wonder he hadn’t recognized her.  Stark’s wild daughter was all over the tabloids.  Of course, up close, she looked a little more put together than the wild-eyed spreads the paparazzi presented.

"My car's… it’s not… ” she sighed heavily.  "It’s not…  _going_.“

He refrained from laughing.  It was far from the most vague complaint he’d gotten.  "I’ll take a look under the hood.”

She kept checking her phone.  Probably because there wasn’t a good signal in here. These old Brooklyn buildings.

“If you want a signal, you’ll have to go outside…” he gestured towards the open garage door.  "If you’re wanting to call someone or–“

"No, I’m fine,” she replied, standing awkwardly to the side, watching as he popped the hood on the sports car.

It wasn’t apparent from looking, which meant he was going to have to drive the thing and see for himself.

“It’s not accelerating or–”

“Nope.  It revs but it doesn’t go.”

That was helpful.  "You have any trouble going in reverse?“

"Yeah, yeah…. Last week it wouldn’t back up.”

He pressed his lips into a thin line, reaching for the hood prop and slamming it.  "It’s probably the transmission, doll.  Sorry.“

She raised her eyebrows, glancing down at the car.  "Sorry, what?  You can’t fix it?”

“It’s pretty expensive and it takes a while… you’d probably do better to take this to whoever your dad uses.”

She frowned.  "I checked around, everyone said this garage was the best.“

"Look, it’s gonna cost an arm and a leg to fix, you’d be better off…”

She shook her head.  "I got arms and legs to spare, Mr…" she glanced down at his nametag.  "Barnes.“

Standing there in a wrap dress and four-inch heels, she certainly had legs to spare.  And he hated that  _that_  was what he noticed. Especially when her eyes narrowed into a glare that could probably kill if he stood there long enough.

"It’s gonna take days for the parts to get here, I don’t stock parts for this model.”

“So order the parts,” she countered, pulling herself up tall.

“You’re gonna leave this car here for days while I get the parts and fix it.?”

“Damn straight,” she countered.

He wasn’t really in a place to be turning down work, but this was straight up ridiculous.

“Doesn’t your dad have a mechanic who fixes  _his_  cars?”  He put a lot of emphasis on ‘cars’.  Plural.

That wasn’t the right thing to say, apparently.

“Fine,” she spat. “ You can’t fix it?  Just say that.”

“I can fix  _anything_ ,” he assured her.  "I just don’t see why you want  _me_  to do it.“

She pulled out her wallet. "Want a deposit? Is that what this is?  You think I’m gonna go spend the money I owe you on designer purses or something? Drugs?  Think I’ll go on a coke bender and you’ll be out?  I’ll pay in advance.”

His mouth went dry when he saw the credit card in her hand.  She pressed it into his hand.  "Go.  Charge whatever you think’s fair.“

Her hand was shaking, and she was chewing on her bottom lip again.

"I’m good, Ms. Stark.  I apologize…” he said calmly, reaching out to close her fingers back over her card.  "I just figured… I dunno… I’m sorry.“

She nodded once, dropping the card back into her purse and snapping it closed.  "Darcy.”

“I’m sorry?” he repeated, tilting his head slightly in confusion.

“Call me Darcy,” she said.  "Ms. Stark isn’t me.“

"Okay… Darcy.  Only if you’ll call me Bucky.”

“Why would I do that?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.

“Because it’s my  _name_?”

Her eyes went wide. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean–”

He laughed again. “You’re fine, doll.”

**Author's Note:**

> <3


End file.
